


Prove It

by Raspberry_Omega



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Requited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-15 21:27:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13622010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raspberry_Omega/pseuds/Raspberry_Omega
Summary: No guns, no swords - this is where Wing starts with his attempt to convince Drift of a point.It goes unexpected places.





	Prove It

Three solar cycles ago, Drift tactlessly replied to Wing’s rhetorical question with just the wrong answer, which was probably the answer definitely waited for as well.

So here they were, on a mountain top rising high above the sight of peeping organic eyes, strong winds coming at the pristine metallic frames from unpredictable directions. The jet could occasionally spread out his winglets to aid his manoeuvres, and it all made things more difficult than ever for Drift.

‘Prove it.’

Drift was tossed into the air again, before landing heavily on the ground with a thump. The clash brought anger, whereas it also cleared his head. A smirk surfaced, revealing a sharp canine, and for a moment he was almost Deadlock again.

‘What do I have to prove? You’ve been winning by force, and that proves _my_ point.’

Something flashed across Wing’s amber optics. His mouth curved up, and that smile implied approval, respect even. For the first time, he quietly walked up to the speedster and offered a servo to help him up.

Drift let out a grunt as he straightened his frame up. Wing’s servo felt warm, and he was given the impression that the energy, wherever it came from, was an infinity that would forever emanate and pass onto anyone who felt cold.

And the jet was just, gorgeous. He’d hardly ever come across a stunning blend of might and beauty like this before, and the marvellous combat skills added to it. In fact, the more they trained, the worse Drift’s performance seemed to become, and the 'con could not make sure if his coach had already guessed from the way he couldn’t take his optics off him what he might actually be processing.

‘I would’ve appreciated that observation much more if you had been winning, as it would naturally rule out the possibility that instead of being actually convinced, you might just be trying creative ways to use my point against me.’

‘Heh.’ Drift put on an exhausted face. ‘Sorry to disappoint.’

Perfect thighs and legs, smart finials on the knees. Drift found himself ogling the jet again and quickly pulled his wandering gaze away.

Wing was too good for him. He had an immaculate timeline. His struggles weren’t a mixture of dust and spilt energon from the likes of him, whose lives didn’t really matter to no one, and he did never need to coax himself into believing the survival stories of the low were those that made anyone wiser.

‘Drift?’

Drift was unconsciously hearing it, but he was somehow preoccupied with the train of thoughts continuing from there.

Had he been something similar, no, not so much as a member of the Circle - of course that would be too much to even imagine - just someone who did not _have to_ cling onto the faith in power to justify his otherwise pointless existence, he’d not be answering his questions and stomaching his patronisation. He’d be putting on his killer Deadlock smile and inviting the jet for a drink.

But Wing overpowered him anyway. There was absolutely nothing for him to work on no more.

Robust chestpiece. Exquisite winglets.

‘Drift.’

He was pulled back into reality. ‘Yes.’

Wing paused for a moment, seemingly bemused on some vaguely conceived idea. A faint, almost unnoticeable smile surfaced as his stern expression eased, and the attractive features just had their enchanting powers multiplied without the jet’s awareness. Drift felt transfixed.

‘Then I surmise this makes me the one who needs their point clarified and sustained,’ Wing’s voice was as soothing as ever, but right at this moment it had something else to it.

Servos extended and held his shoulders. Drift wasn’t exactly sure what was going on.

‘I have no doubt that you’ve been a problem.’

‘Huh.’ The 'con wasn’t sure how to respond.

‘And this is how I plan to solve it.’

The jet took a step forward to close the distance between them, and wasted no time to seal his lips with Drift’s.

‘Hmpf…’ Dumbfounded and literally could not speak a thing, he just stood there and let Wing continue with the kiss, gentle, superficial, but somehow, hearty.

The wind was cold. Drift shakily stretched out his own servos and held Wing’s waist. He couldn’t have enough of that energy.

He didn’t quite know of what, but he felt he’d made sure.


End file.
